


Sweet and Spicy

by kristsune



Category: Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Canon Asexual Character, Evolution of their relationship, Fade to Black, M/M, Mentions of the rest of the party, Phantom pain, Spoilers through Season 4, but some light angst in parts 3 and 4, including talk about zolf's legs, mostly just very soft, no actual smut, so much soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-24
Updated: 2020-03-24
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:26:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23289982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kristsune/pseuds/kristsune
Summary: Five times Zolf and Oscar are soft, and one time they are spicy.
Relationships: Zolf Smith/Oscar Wilde
Comments: 6
Kudos: 73





	Sweet and Spicy

**Author's Note:**

> GOD this ended up being a beast of a fic, longer than I've written in awhile. This does take place chronologically, at least vaguely, with obvious time skips. No actual discussion of their relationship, that takes place in between. 
> 
> Huge shout out to [howshouldiknowboutlife](https://howshouldiknowboutlife.tumblr.com/) for helping so much with this.

1.

Oscar was seated on the small couch in one of the common rooms of the inn, feet curled up next to him, with his writing in his lap. He was attempting to work on some poetry, but all he kept coming up with was water, and ocean metaphors. Which wasn’t necessarily a _bad_ thing, but he was pretty sure it was entirely Zolf’s fault. Considering he, not only insisted on no work while resting, (hence the poetry rather than correspondence, or notes, or maps, or literally _anything_ to do with the war) but said dwarf, was also currently sat on the floor in front of him, tinkering with one of the mechanisms in his leg, tools and spare parts spread out around him. 

Oscar couldn’t help but stop what he was doing, and watch Zolf as he worked. The leg in question was still attached to him, and was placed over his other knee to keep it close enough to work on. Oscar was, per usual, mesmerized by Zolf’s strong, sure, callused hands, unable to pull his eyes away as they worked so efficiently on the small cogs, and wheels. 

Eventually Zolf turned, finding Oscar watching him fondly, “See anything you like?” 

Oscar hummed with an echo of his old sultry smile, “Just thinking of all the things you can do with those hands of yours”

Zolf chuckled, “If your neck, and back were bothering you that much again, you could just ask.” 

Oscar’s smile turned soft, as he ran his hand through Zolf’s recently shorn hair, “I might just take you up on that later.”

Zolf’s eyes fluttered closed briefly as he sighed softly, “Sounds like a deal.” He turned back to his leg, and Oscar returned to his poetry, no longer worrying about the ocean heavy imagery. If that was what was begging to be written, who was he to deny himself that pleasure?

2.

“Gods, it’s bloody cold out.” Zolf grumbled as he shut the door behind him. He was dripping water everywhere, completely soaked to the bone, but he couldn’t be arsed to care at the moment. He was attempting to remove his cloak and outer layers, to try and warm up, but his fingers weren’t working properly, too numb to do any good. The shivering probably wasn’t helping much either.

Large, long fingered hands, gently pushed his own away and started to undo the buttons for him. “You are going to ruin the hardwood floors, getting them wet like this. We may have commandeered this inn, but that doesn’t mean it belongs to us, you know.”

Zolf scoffed, but dropped his hands to allow Oscar to help him remove his soaking clothes. “Yes, Wilde, I know. Not my fault a winter storm decided to roll through on my way back from the village.”

Oscar raised an elegant eyebrow at him. 

“Don’t give me that look. You know I’ve got no pull with _him_ anymore.” 

“Oh, I’m well aware of that fact.” By this point Oscar had removed Zolf’s cloak, jacket and outer shirt. Unfortunately Zolf’s shivering had only gotten worse. Oscar removed his own jacket, nothing terribly robust, but it was good wool, well made, and had been soaking up Oscar’s body heat. Zolf wouldn’t even bother to deny how nice it felt to have wrapped around him, and it wasn’t only because it was helping warm him up quicker. Zolf rarely had the opportunity to do so, but he enjoyed wearing pieces of Oscar’s clothing, even if only during the occasional down times they had at the inn together. They were always impeccably made, and of good quality materials. They were much simpler styles than they used to be, but still managed to be fashionable, and always fit Oscar _very_ well, accentuating all of his best features (not that he had any bad features in Zolf’s opinion). 

“Come on, let’s get you warmed up.” Zolf startled as Oscar gently steered him towards the small couch near the fire. Zolf shook his head as he allowed himself to be led, the cold really must have seeped into his brain, to let his mind wander so. Oscar sat him down, and removed his boots, and with an added nod of consent, his trousers. 

Oscar then grabbed a large quilt (looked to be the one he had kept on his own bed) and spread it out over Zolf, and sat down next to him. Oscar barely had to urge him to lean in close as he wrapped his arm around his shoulders and tucked the quilt in around them. 

Zolf heaved a deep sigh as the shivering started to abate. He was starting to gain feeling in his hands again, and managed to find Oscar’s hand to hold.

“Thank you, Oscar.”

Oscar gently tipped Zolf’s head back, and kissed the crown of his head, “Anytime, Mr. Smtih.”

Zolf smiled at the endearment, and rested his head against Oscar’s chest, and felt more than just heat from Oscar and the room settle in his chest. 

  
  


3.

Oscar hadn’t seen Zolf all day, which was… unusual, when they were both at the inn. Zolf barged into his office regularly to make sure he had been eating and drinking enough (he wasn’t), but he hadn’t stopped by once all day. Oscar couldn’t help the small spike of worry he felt at the thought of something having happened to him. They had been working together, mostly alone, for so long, the very idea of Zolf not being there scared Oscar more than he would have liked to admit, even to himself. 

Oscar calmly went in search for him, keeping a tight hold on that anxious feeling, willing it not to grow as each place he checked (kitchen, common room, practice grounds) resulted in no Zolf. He finally made it to Zolf’s bedroom room, which he generally only stayed in when he was sleeping, or not feeling well. 

He paused for a moment at the door, hearing muffled sounds from within, sounds which Oscar recognized, if never having heard them from Zolf specifically. Well. Just standing here wasn’t doing anyone any good good, and he knocked gently, “Zolf? Are you alright? It’s okay if you’re not, I just got worried.”

“‘M fine”

Oscar hesitated, pushing Zolf when he didn’t want to be pushed usually ended poorly, for both of them, but with the way he sounded, Oscar couldn’t just leave, not yet. “May I come in?”

He heard Zolf take a deep breath, “Yeah, sure, might as well.” 

Oscar paused another moment, allowing Zolf to collect himself, but was still rubbing his hand down his face when he opened the door. Oscar was extremely good at schooling his face to neutrality, but it was difficult to maintain after seeing Zolf in his current state. He was still sat in bed, blankets a mess around him, his eyes were red and puffy, his beard loose, without its usual clasp, and his mechanical legs were on the floor nearby, but not placed with the usual care Zolf took with them. 

Oscar walked over to the empty side of the bed, “May I?”

Zolf nodded, looking even more exhausted, and upset up close. Oscar sat down on the edge of the bed, one leg hanging off and facing Zolf, gently placing his hand on Zolf’s forearm. “Would you like to talk about whatever is bothering you?” 

Zolf exhaled sharply, “No. But I’ve learned well enough by this point that not talking about it won’t do me any favors.” He scrubbed his face again, running his fingers through his beard in an attempt to tame it a bit. He gave up after a moment and took a deep breath. “I’m having phantom pains again, in my legs. They _hurt_. Doesn’t matter if I’m wearing the magical legs or not, whether I’m sat down or standing, using the cane or not. Sharp stabbing pains, alternating with a cramping, twisting sensation. My magic hasn’t done a damn thing to help. I can’t sleep. Can’t get comfortable, or as soon as I do, they just start to throb again.” Zolf took another deep shuddering breath, “Doesn’t help that when I do manage to fall asleep, I keep ending up back in that damned tank. Unable to breathe, unable to walk… “ Zolf visibly shuddered as he trailed off. 

Oscar’s hand slid up Zolf’s arm and moved to start rubbing his back. Zolf just leaned towards him, and Oscar shifted so Zolf’s head ended up resting in his lap. After a short time of silence, Oscar started to sing. Nothing fancy, just a soft German lullaby he learned as a child. Zolf had mentioned that his magic hadn’t helped, but if he happened to weave some magic into the words, and melody, if only to ease him into an untroubled sleep, well it certainly couldn’t hurt to try. Oscar brought his hand up to start running through Zolf’s short, thick hair, knowing it also helped him relax. Eventually, Zolf’s breathing evened out to that of sleep. 

Oscar continued his ministrations for quite some time, playing with Zolf’s hair far longer than the singing. This may not be a permanent solution, but if Oscar could help him sleep for now, he promised himself to do some more extensive research to see if there was a better way to help. He looked down at Zolf’s sleeping form, gently running his thumb over his cheek, and realized suddenly that he would do absolutely _anything_ to help him. Yes. He would find a way to make things better for Zolf, middle of a war or not. 

  
  


4.

Zolf found Oscar under the overhang at the back of the inn, staring up to the sky. He had just left Hamid and Azu in their cell to get them some food, but had wanted to check in with Oscar before he did that. 

“I know what you’re going to say. But I can’t believe it’s them. Not yet.” Oscar hadn’t turned around, just kept looking up at a gap between the trees, which only had more rain filled clouds beyond it. 

“I know.”

“Still no word on Sasha or Grizzop?”

“Nothing confirmed.” 

Oscar took a deep breath, there was a shakiness to it that Zolf recognized, a fragileness that Oscar hadn’t let anyone else see. Well, anyone but him. 

“The moon is waxing crescent right now, if it was visible behind all this cloud cover. Just enough light to hunt by, but still plenty of shadow to use for cover.” Oscar turned to him, his cheeks wet, and Zolf was sure it wasn’t due to the rain. “I thought we were past this. I can’t go through this again, Zolf. We lost them once, I don’t know if we can make it through losing them again.”

Zolf reached up to brush his thumb against Oscar’s cheek. He closed his eyes and leaned into it before crouching down so Zolf could wrap him in his arms. “We won’t need to. Hamid and Azu are here. They’ll be okay.” Zolf tilted his head so he could kiss Oscar’s temple, and just held him, reminding him that he was there, that they were together, that they could get through this, just like they had gotten through everything else that’s been thrown their way. 

After a few minutes Oscar pulled back and rested his forehead against Zolf’s. “Thank you.”

Zolf rested his hands on either side of Oscar’s neck, thumb sweeping along the side of his jaw, “Of course, Oscar.”

They may have stayed like that a little longer than they probably should have, but Zolf couldn’t bring himself to pull away first, waiting until Oscar was ready to move onto the next step. They would get through this, _with_ Hamid and Azu. Zolf was sure of that.

  
  


5.

Oscar looked up at footsteps outside his office. Footsteps that sounded oh so familiar, but hadn’t been around for days. Oscar was up and out in front of his desk before Zolf finished opening the door. 

He stopped just shy of touching Zolf, “We never left each other’s company, we aren’t infected.” Oscar closed the gap and wrapped his arms around his shoulders. Zolf did the same, and he leaned in close, head pressed to the middle of Oscar’s chest. It felt like a piece of him that had been missing was locked back into place. 

After a few minutes Oscar realized it still wasn’t enough, let go just enough so he could go down on one knee and pressed their foreheads together, hands resting gently on the side of Zolf’s face, unable to stop from making a soft distressed sound at the new scar at his temple. “I was so worried you weren’t going to make it back.”

Zolf brought his hands up to Oscar’s shoulders, one resting on the side of his neck, “And leave someone else here to annoy you? Wouldn’t dream of it.” 

Oscar huffed a laugh, “You always have annoyed me best.” 

Zolf chuckled, and was about to reply when they heard more footsteps in the hall. 

“Do they know?”

“No.”

They both let go of each other and Oscar stood up so fast he over-balanced and had to lean back against his desk, but was luckily able to make it look like he was lounging with a simple cross of his arms. 

Cel peeked their head into the room, “Hey,” they looked to Oscar then to Zolf, then back to Oscar again before shrugging, “did you start the debrief? I thought we were going to do that together? Hamid just went to get food for everyone because he said debriefing on an empty stomach was never a good idea, and I’ve found Hamid on an empty stomach is bad all around, that little buddy sure can pack it away, especially for how small he is. I wonder how he fits it all, does he just have a really high metabolism? Are all halflings like that, or just him? I wonder if he’ll let me do a few tests, nothing invasive of course, but I wonder if there are some halfling traits that no one has thought to look into before. Could be something there. I wonder if I could take that and apply it to a potion. A high metabolism might be useful…. for something. I’m sure it would - “

“Cel.” Zolf interrupted with a gentle, but no nonsense tone. 

“Yes? Sorry, got carried away there.”

“That’s fine. I was just checking in. Let Hamid and the others gather what they would like. We’ll be right over to start, and we can eat at the same time if that’s what everyone prefers.” 

Cel did a little mock salute, “Sounds good! Now where was I.. Oh! Hamid and his never ending stomach…” Cel whipped out a small notebook out of one of their many pockets and a strange writing utensil that had way too many pieces attached to it to be easily functional, but their voice faded as they walked down the hall continuing on about halfling stomach capacities. 

Zolf looked to Oscar with a smug smile, “Real smooth. I’m the one with the mechanical legs, figured you’d at least be able to stand up without any trouble.”

Oscar rolled his eyes and attempted a scowl, but could feel a smile pull at his lips anyway. 

“Come on, we shouldn’t keep them waiting any longer.” Zolf started to turn towards the door.

Oscar gently grabbed his hand before he could and brought it to his lips to kiss the inside of his wrist. “I’m glad you’re back, Mr. Smith.”

Zolf cupped his cheek, thumb gently running along his scar, “Me too, Oscar. Me too.” 

  
  


+1

Zolf was in the kitchen, mid afternoon light streaming through the window, when Oscar walked in stretching (Zolf heard the pops and cracks from the ridiculously tall man before he saw him). 

“How’s the work coming?” Zolf asked as he turned back to his assortment of pots on the stove.

“Quite well actually, I think I found a good stopping point for the second act.” 

“Excellent. That’s been giving you trouble for days.”

Oscar hummed, and leaned against Zolf’s back, “What are you making? Smells delicious in here.” 

“Curry. Hamid and Azu brought me some excellent spices when they were here last.” Zolf thought back to their visit and smiled. It was always nice to get all together again. Cel was supposed to be there, but they were in the midst of a “major breakthrough” on something they were insistent that was “top secret” and the rest of them would get to see it at next visit in a few weeks.

Oscar grabbed a spoon from the table and reached out to the pot on the left as if to taste it. Zolf smacked his hand lightly with his own spoon. “Not from that one. That one is mine.” 

Zolf could hear the frown in Oscar’s reply, “Why do we have separate pots?”

“Because Hamid and Azu brought me spices.” Zolf easily deflected another attempt at Oscar reaching for the pot. 

Oscar scoffed, “That doesn’t explain anything.”

“They are _very_ hot spices. Ones I know, for a fact, that you cannot handle. You have to work up to this kind of heat.”

Oscar bent down, so his lips were brushing Zolf’s ear, and said in his most sultry tone, “Please?”

Zolf shivered despite himself. Oscar knew what worked on him all too well. 

He let out a sharp breath through his nose, “Fine, but not out of the pot. I’ll give it to you.” 

Oscar’s eyebrow rose, and his smile quirked lopsidedly due to his scar. “Oh, you _are_ treating me well today, aren’t you.” 

Zolf rolled his eyes, “We’ll see if you still consider it a treat after you have it.” 

Zolf dipped his spoon in the sauce and tasted it, flavor, and heat, and spice dancing across his tongue, and before Oscar could argue that _he_ was the one that was supposed to be getting a taste (Zolf could just _see_ the sass flash across his face) Zolf pulled him down to his level by his jacket lapels and kissed him deeply. 

Oscar leaned into it quickly, bringing his hands to Zolf’s shoulders. But after just a few moments he made a soft distressed noise at the back of his throat. and then quickly let go with a gasp.

“Oh _gods_ . What is in that? Why is that _so hot_?!” 

Zolf smiled smugly, “Well, you can’t say I didn’t warn you.” He could tell Oscar wanted to make a scathing remark but was panting too hard to even attempt it. “The thing that most people don’t know, was that the cook on the _The Sea Troll_ was from India, and regularly stockpiled spices from home. We were one of the few ships that actually had decently spiced food, especially when compared to the Navy.” Zolf made a face at the memory of terrible military grade food as he continued to stir the pots, getting ready to transfer to plates for a late lunch. “They generally allowed people to build up their taste of spice, but that first time they made curry? And you’re the new hand? Ya get a surprise like you just did. So you could get a taste for it. Took me awhile, but I built my way back up to that.”

Oscar’s mouth had apparently cooled off enough by this point for him to answer, “Hence the two pots.”

“Yes, hence the two pots.” Zolf placed their dishes on the table, and turned back to Oscar. Who was much closer than he had been, and had a sly, knowing smile on his face.

“What would you say to sharing a different kind of heat, instead?” His voice was that same sultry tone he used earlier, the one that always cut right through Zolf. 

He bit his lip as he kept eye contact with Oscar. Sod it. That was a good kiss. “Yeah, I could be hungry for something other than food.”

Oscar’s deep laughter rang out, and Zolf couldn’t resist smiling along with him. Zolf was never great at puns, but as Oscar led him to their bedroom, he realized to get this kind of result? He could make an exception.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to stop by and say hi on [tumblr!](https://kristsune.tumblr.com/)  
> I'm also on twitter under the same name!


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